


Lithium, Oxygen, Vanadium, Europium

by cx_shhhh



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Bad Puns, Chemistry, Christmas Fluff, Cute Grantaire, M/M, Physics, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, they wear glasses because they're NERDS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28315986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cx_shhhh/pseuds/cx_shhhh
Summary: There's more than a little chemistry between Enjolras and Grantaire, and Gavroche just wants to nudge his teachers in the right direction. Bad puns, ugly sweaters, and just overall cuteness in the form of holiday fluff.
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 50
Collections: The Hoeliday Exchange 2020





	Lithium, Oxygen, Vanadium, Europium

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedarkestnightwillend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedarkestnightwillend/gifts).



> I had the great pleasure of getting [Jolee](https://the-gayest-eponine.tumblr.com/) for the hoe-liday exchange!
> 
> You're adorable and an amazing person to bounce ideas off of (not for this fic obviously), and I kinda knew that this AU was what I had to run with when you started virtually screaming about it.
> 
> Enjoy!

Gavroche, self-proclaimed book smart and street smart, is almost a hundred percent sure there’s something going on between his teachers. Just because he can, he’s taking both advanced chemistry _and_ advanced physics for the sole reason that everyone else who had either Monsieur Grantaire or Monsieur Enjolras in the past loved them so much. Nobody ever had the gall to take both their courses at once, though, because of how rigorous the curriculums are.

If there’s one thing that Gavroche is good at, it’s definitely absorbing information while barely paying any attention in class. This gives him room to focus on the details, like how flustered M. Grantaire gets when M. Enjolras walks into his classroom and how M. Enjolras’s eyebrows twitch when he gets an email from M. Grantaire, but his mouth turns up slightly in a smile. When Gavroche’s chemistry teacher’s face turns red for the third time, it’s pretty much already confirmed that M. Grantaire has a massive crush.

Gavroche can’t help but notice the drastic differences between the physics and chemistry departments. His sister has had to bring him and Azelma to school early a number of times because she teaches math downstairs, and since then, he’s witnessed Enjolras, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac stride down the halls in their pressed slacks and button-downs. Well, Enjolras and Combeferre stride, being the ridiculously tall individuals they are. Courfeyrac is much shorter than his fellow physics teachers and much bubblier in disposition, so he has to speed-walk a little to keep up. Gavroche would be very intimidated if he was any more ignorant.

In Enjolras’s presence, students would not dare to talk about how hard physics is or how much they hated that last test. All his students admire him too much, and some even harbor foolish crushes on him (probably because he pulls off the strict teacher vibe _very well_ with his glasses and ties). He talks about centripetal force and gravity with a passion nobody should ever have, in Gavroche’s humble opinion. Once, he scared his classes with a story about how some reckless driver tried to make a sharp turn on a rainy day and crashed into a lamp post. None of his students were ever the same after that, and everybody made sure to steer clear of any cars that day (a hard feat in Paris, but it’s the thought that counts).

Those who take M. Combeferre’s class are either geniuses, or they simply don’t exist. Gavroche thinks he saw one or two students enter his classroom at some point and never appear again, but he couldn’t be completely sure. M. Courfeyrac’s students are the exact opposite. They simply take his class for the credit to graduate and stay because of his energy.

The chemistry department is a totally different scenario. M. Grantaire wears t-shirts with periodic table puns on them, more often than not being cat-related. He shows his classes pictures of his cats whenever he has time after lecturing and calls the furballs his babies. However, he’s serious in his teaching and makes sure everyone knows their polyatomic ions like the back of their hands. 

Grantaire has been known to stare darkly at wonky benzene rings that barely resemble hexagons and lazily drawn covalent structures before putting on a sweet smile that just barely looks fake. (In fact, a lot of his students seem to harbor silly crushes on him too, Gavroche notices, especially when they sigh dreamily at his smiles.) He really should cut them all some slack because it’s not like the students have a minor in art like he does. Labs with M. Grantaire are a wild, wild experience. One day, they’ll be doing titrations, and the next, he’ll be setting himself on fire. Safely. Or at least they think so.

M. Joly and M. Bossuet, although just as brilliant and scary in the amount of knowledge they hold, are also equally as strange. Joly has a crazy thing about lab safety that he makes sure to drill into everyone’s head at the beginning of the year while Bossuet probably shouldn’t be trusted with the glassware once he shattered a beaker from tripping over nothing. The three of them will smile and welcome students warmly to their classes, but Gavroche thinks they just do that because chemistry is deceptively hard. It’s really not just coloring periodic tables, as much as Grantaire loves making his students do exactly that.

Anyway, back to how capable Gavroche thinks he is, how lucky he is that he got both M. Grantaire and M. Enjolras as his teachers. He’s walking down the hallway with Azelma and whispers, “Does M. Enjolras ever smile in your class?”

She kinda just looks weirdly at her brother and replies, “Uh, he talks about the government sometimes, which confuses me because why not teach that instead? And then he’ll turn it around in a second and start telling us to do our homework. Oh! And there was that one time he got mad at someone for not taking notes in class, but no.”

“Thanks for the whole spiel, ‘Zelma.”

“Hey!”

“I’m just saying. I have him too, y’know. But that’s beside the point. Enjolras, being an old man when it comes to anything technology, had his presentation up, but I think he forgot that the projector is basically an extension of his computer, and guess who emailed him?”

Azelma rolls her eyes, “Lemme guess. His mom?”

Gavroche stares at her weirdly and replies, “What, no! M. Grantaire. The others were too busy copying down notes and stuff, so I’m, like, pretty sure I was the only one who noticed. But he stared at his computer and smiled like a dork for a full minute. At an email about some Christmas celebration of all things. You know how he feels about consumerism and the holiday, so this means that he was definitely smiling because of my chemistry teacher.”

His sister looks skeptical, but she shrugs, “Alright then. If you’re so confident, you’d be willing to start a wager, right?”

Gavroche grins, rubbing his hands together, “Five bucks say they’ll get together by the beginning of our holiday break. And by beginning, I mean Saturday, so if ‘Ponine sees them get together during their annual department party at M. Courfeyrac’s on Friday, it still counts in my favor. ”

Azelma points an accusing finger at his nose and says, “No meddling or any of your tricks, and you’re on.”

They shake hands before Gavroche waves at her and speeds off to get to his first class on time.

It’s just his luck that he has chemistry right after physics and M. Enjolras has his last period off. That means Gavroche gets to witness Enjolras coming in during Grantaire’s class and continuing the same debate from the day before. After Grantaire fumbles with his glasses for a moment, he speaks eloquently about how nuclear energy may actually be a good and sustainable source. He gives the class a work period just to argue with Enjolras, and Gavroche will never mind a work period because he gets to watch his teachers’ interactions, and they’re ahead of the syllabus anyway.

Someone mutters, “Just kiss already,” which neither teacher seems to catch, but Gavroche’s ears perk up.

“I’m gonna start a betting pool. My sister will owe me money once they get together before the holidays. Are you in?”

The bell rings, and Gavroche has a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he goes to find his sister. He needs to keep her updated on his progress after all.

* * *

Grantaire is only slightly surprised when Joly bursts into his classroom via the storage hallway. It’s the hallway where they keep all their supplies and shit, but nobody really knows what goes on in there except the chemistry teachers.

“Oh, hi Joly!”

He straightens his lab coat and blurts, “Bahorel told me about one of your students. Gavroche?”

Grantaire frowns, “What about him? He’s really bright and doodles kittens on the backs of his exams, if that's what you're asking.”

“No, not really. Well, apparently he’s betting on yours and Enjolras’s relationship?”

These words cause him to freeze where he’s arranging the flasks. Grantaire blushes and asks, flustered, “Have I been that obvious? Oh no, I hope Enjolras hasn’t realized. My life is over.”

Joly pats Grantaire on the shoulder and gives him a hug, one that he gladly accepts. Joly is one of his favorite people, Grantaire decides. Bossuet and Musichetta are both very lucky.

“Bahorel didn’t say anything about Enjolras knowing, so let’s hope it stays that way,” he says, and Grantaire nods in affirmation. For the sake of his sanity and his heart, he really hopes Gavroche knows what he’s doing.

Grantaire is wiping away the lesson on his whiteboard at the end of the day right as the door opens and Bossuet comes in, whistling. He drops his eraser in surprise, eyes widening even further as his friend walks toward him.

“Boss, watch out!” he warns and breathes a sigh of relief when Bossuet skirts around it in time. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m channeling my inner Joly when I’m around you.”

Bossuet just laughs heartily and pats Grantaire’s back firmly, smacking a friendly kiss to his cheek, “I wouldn’t be alive without you or Joly or ‘Chetta. Contrary to popular opinion, I think I _am_ rather lucky.”

Grantaire huffs a laugh and asks, “So, what brings you to my humble abode? Did you need another glass disposal?”

“I am _utterly_ disappointed at your lack of faith in me. No shattered beakers today, but Joly told me that Bahorel told him that everyone’s betting on you and Enj.”

Grantaire’s cheeks turn red when he whisper-yells indignantly, “That stupid bet again? I’m gonna wring Gavroche’s neck tomorrow if Enjolras doesn’t get to him first. Wait, no, that implies that Enjolras would know, and my life would end right then and there. Please tell me he doesn’t have any idea.”

Bossuet ruffles his hair and replies, “You’d be surprised at how well Courf and ‘Ferre keep secrets from him. He didn’t even know they were going out until last semester. And please don’t hurt Gav. Éponine would actually come upstairs and murder us if she finds out her baby brother is harmed in any way.”

“Éponine wouldn’t kill me. She loves me and my cute ass too much for that. However, I’m going to avoid Enj at all costs from now on. If you don’t see or hear from me ever again, just know that he’s approached me and probably hid my body somewhere in his classroom.”

Bossuet rolls his eyes, “Okay, drama queen.”

Grantaire pops his hip, undoubtedly looking very sexy in his shirt featuring a caffeine molecule tucked into his black jeans, flicking his hair while batting his eyelashes. Bossuet laughs and picks up the eraser to help him but not before whacking him with it. Grantaire loves his friends a lot, from Joly and Bossuet to Bahorel, Feuilly, and Jehan in the biology department to Courfeyrac, who loves teasing him mercilessly about his crush on Enjolras. To be completely fair, he loves Enjolras a lot, but he can barely scrape together two words that don’t have to do with chemistry in front of him. 

Enjolras comes into his classroom ridiculously often during his last period to start conversations with him, but Grantaire feels like he just freezes before rambling at him. When he’s teaching, Enjolras sits quietly at the back of the classroom while occasionally piping in about electrons or whatever while focusing so intensely on Grantaire that he turns red. Thinking about all this makes him feel warm inside, knowing that Enjolras willingly stays and listens to what he has to say. It doesn’t help that Enjolras looks ridiculously sexy in his button-downs and glasses. Especially when he peers over the top of them to glare at a student who might be on their phone instead of paying attention to the lecture. Okay, that’s where Grantaire needs to stop daydreaming.

* * *

Later, Grantaire sits in his apartment, wrapping gifts for his friends and colleagues after finishing up grades for the last test. He had felted some cute cat keychains wearing science pun sweaters, blessed by his own cats. They’re adorable, if he says so himself, and it’ll be an experience getting to see the looks on their faces.

Many packages wrapped in green paper and bows now sit on his desk. All except one: Enjolras’s. Grantaire makes sure to handle the tiny kitten keychain extra carefully, and just before placing it in its box, he kisses the top of the gift, blushes a little at how silly he’s being, and quickly wraps it all up.

The next week is finals, which means that Grantaire’s students get to suffer while he gets to somewhat relax and catch up on grading assignments. He observes his students with a keen eye to ensure that nobody’s cheating, keeping an especially close one on Gavroche. Éponine had warned him about her brother’s sneaky tendencies, so Grantaire is well-prepared. Gavroche only smirks at his teacher before turning back to his exam, writing down answers at an extremely quick pace. It’s a bit suspicious that Enjolras hasn’t brought up the bet in their discussions, but Grantaire supposes the man is busy with his own students.

On Friday evening, Grantaire stands on the doorstep of Courfeyrac’s apartment for a solid minute, hand poised to knock, before the door opens, and he’s dragged inside unceremoniously. A cheer rises up from those already standing around in the living room, and he has to hide his smile behind his hair as he looks down at his shoes.

“Okay, okay. That’s enough. I love you all,” Grantaire hurriedly says, waving his arms around as if to physically dispel the noise. He sets his bag of gifts on the coffee table, bats away Bahorel who tries to take a peek inside, and squishes in between Joly and Bossuet, both of whom are quick to hug him.

Courfeyrac shoves a Santa hat on Grantaire’s head and bends down to kiss his cheek in greeting, “And we love you too, dear R.”

He leaves after flicking the white puffball hanging from the hat and saunters over to drape himself all over Combeferre, announcing, “Now that we’re all here, let the gift-giving commence!”

The pile of presents in front of each person steadily grows while Enjolras complains about how wrapping paper is bad for the environment. He gets shushed almost immediately, so he takes a seat next to Feuilly, scowling. Grantaire smiles and picks at the tape on the last package. He has a gut feeling that it’s Enjolras’s because the paper is bold red and a little messy, like it was wrapped in a haste. He carefully peels away the paper and openly gapes at what’s sitting in front of him.

Grantaire frantically looks up to make eye contact with Enjolras, who is looking right back at him, a tiny smile on his face. The sweater in his lap is made of the softest green yarn and printed with the most ridiculous design. He squeaks a little when Enjolras moves to sit down next to him, replacing Joly, who had fucked off to who-knows-where.

“I figured you might like it. I came up with the design myself, y’know. Feuilly helped me put it all together because I am terrible at crafting, and yarn defies all rules of physics. I should know.”

Grantaire feels like he’s going to cry. Just when he thinks he can’t be any more in love with him, Enjolras literally learns how to knit just to make him an ugly Christmas sweater. He hides his red face in his hands and desperately wishes he could just disappear and sniff his gift. He hopes it smells like Enjolras, so he can be a little creepy and dream about being hugged when he winds up sleeping in the sweater.

Enjolras gently pries his hands away, looking a little concerned and asks, “Hey, are you okay? I know it’s ugly, but I don’t think it warrants crying.”

Grantaire takes a deep breath, winces when his exhale fogs up his glasses, and bravely pounds at Enjolras’s chest with his fists, “Shut up. I’m just being emotional okay? And it isn’t ugly. Sure, it’s horrible, and the _pun, oh my God. ‘Oh Chemistree,’ really?_ But it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m going to put it on right now just because I can.”

Glaring at Enjolras through the wetness pooling in his eyes, he tugs off the sweater he’s currently wearing, which features a plethora of cats in reindeer antlers dragging a sleigh, just to reveal his shirt, which has the chemistry cat printed on the front, reading “Chemistry puns? I’m in my element,” in bold Impact font. It knocks his glasses askew. He’d feel a little embarrassed, but it’s a part of his personality, so Enjolras can deal with it. Grantaire tugs on his new sweater and hums appreciatively when he notes that it does indeed smell a little like the mild cologne Enjolras wears.

He glances back up at Enjolras, “Well? How do I look?”

Enjolras’s intelligent blue eyes are fixed on him, and Grantaire thinks it’s a bit disconcerting how intense this feels. Maybe this all was a bad idea, and he laments the fact that he can’t just hide in the storage room that only the chemistry teachers are allowed in.

“Lovely. Adorable. In fact, I might need to hug you right now.”

“W-what?”

Unable to resist anything Enjolras asks, Grantaire accepts, and he’s immediately folded into a soft hug. It feels like he belongs there, in his fellow teacher’s firm arms and being embraced so warmly. He mumbles, “This is a bad idea. You’re really giving everyone else fuel for that bet I don’t think you even know about. They’re all staring, aren’t they?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Kinda stupid how they’re all betting on how soon we’ll get together.”

Grantaire can feel Enjolras tighten his arms around him and is a bit afraid to look up at his face. Enjolras just responds in a gentle voice, “Well, why not?”

Shocked, he pulls away and stares up into eyes that carry an expression that is much too fond to be directed at Grantaire. Enjolras lets him escape, but he has to retort, “If you want to be with me just for these students’ stupid bets, don’t even bother. I refuse to be treated like an object when I’m already halfway in love with you, Enjolras.”

Enjolras draws him back into his arms, and Grantaire can’t help but go willingly, sighing a little as he stains his colleague’s button-down with tears. He feels a tender kiss pressed to his forehead and a warm hand brush away the curls on his forehead.

“R, you are extremely talented and smart, and I have the cutest cat-wearing-a-physics-pun-shirt keychain to prove it. I admire you very much, but you must be so dense to think I’d feel anything other than love for you. Sure, we argue, but I prefer to think about them as educational debates. I love the way you always greet your students happily, the way your glasses always slip down your nose when you’re focused on something, the way you could ramble on and on about a subject I haven’t studied since university, but I’d listen to every single word because it’s you. Can I just fucking kiss you now?”

Grantaire closes his mouth with a snap and smiles shakily, “Language, darling. Don’t wanna be a bad influence, do you?”

Enjolras waves impatiently and replies, “There aren’t any students around anyway. So, about that kiss-”

* * *

He doesn’t get to finish because Grantaire cups his face with his hands and attempts to crush their lips together, but both of their glasses manage to get in the way, causing them to groan simultaneously. Enjolras rubs the bridge of his nose and plucks his glasses off his face, and then does the same with Grantaire’s. Grantaire looks up at him with adorably wide blue eyes, and Enjolras can only squeeze him tighter and kiss him as firmly and sweetly as possible.

Sitting on a couch in Courfeyrac’s living room, the two of them are deaf to their friends’ cheering. Enjolras gets smacked by the rogue pillow Feuilly tosses when his hands start to roam a little, trying to coax more breathy sounds out of Grantaire’s mouth. They separate slowly, Grantaire with his butt halfway in Enjolras’s lap and Enjolras with his hands on Grantaire’s thighs. Enjolras thinks he is already addicted to the glazed look in Grantaire’s blue eyes and his plump lips, glossy from their impromptu make-out session. Enjolras brushes a stray curl away from Grantaire’s forehead and places a kiss there, internally thanking his height advantage.

Éponine shouts in the distance, “Wait, so this means Gav is rich!”

Everyone either groans or punches fists into the air, money quickly changing hands. Enjolras rolls his eyes, and Grantaire buries his face in Enjolras’s nice shirt, saying, “I still can’t believe they bet on us. Am I really that obvious?”

* * *

A few hours later, when Grantaire is curled up in Enjolras’s lap, all cozy in his new sweater, he feels the emotions stick in his throat. Enjolras is running long fingers through his hair, and he has to sigh at the pleasant feeling. In fact, he thinks he dozes off a little from drinking too much mulled wine because one second, he’s staring at the fairy lights set up around the room and the next, he's blinking his eyes open to the sight of his love placing delicate kisses on his face.

“Mmm, I love you,” Grantaire mumbles, snuggling up to the warmth radiating off of Enjolras. Under his ear, Enjolras’s heart pounds a little faster, and he smiles, content.

“I love you too. You could say that we’re like the two electrons in a helium atom.”

Grantaire huffs a laugh, “That’s really cheesy, and you could’ve just said that we complete each other.”

Enjolras kisses his nose and stares straight into his eyes, “I’ll get better at these puns. Just wait and see.”

“I look forward to hearing all of them, darling.”

* * *

When the holiday break ends, Grantaire smiles at the idea of him and Enjolras arriving at work together. Enjolras always walks him to his classroom and kisses his cheek before wishing him a good day. Grantaire’s cheeks are already stained pink when he thinks about his boyfriend while writing down the day’s agenda. It makes warm, fuzzy feelings explode in his chest, and he isn’t even wearing the warm, fuzzy sweater that Enjolras gifted him.

“Good morning, M. Grantaire!” Gavroche announces as he walks in after slamming the door open, causing him to squeak and nearly drop his dry-erase marker.

“Oh my G- Gav, you’re going to give me a heart attack. Why are you even here? Last I checked, last period is still at the end of the day.”

Gavroche shrugs and says, “‘Ponine had to come in early, so I thought, why not visit one of my favorite teachers?”

Grantaire raises an eyebrow at his student and asks, “Favorite teacher, huh?”

“Well, you and M. Enjolras. Tied,” Gavroche replies and grins like a sly fox. “And speaking of being tied, I hope your winter break was very comfortable, sir. I'm sure it must have been very nice in M. Enjolras’s bed.”

The blush rising to Grantaire’s cheeks suddenly becomes a full-fledged inferno, and he buries his face in his hands, stuttering, “W-when did you get so audacious? I should dock points on the next test for that.”

In an attempt to escape, Grantaire makes up an extremely convincing excuse of needing to be hugged by a certain physics teacher and proceeds to speed-walk down the hallway to obtain the aforementioned hug. Enjolras is sitting at his desk, feet propped up, looking oh-so-sexy while writing something on a piece of paper, and doesn’t look up until Grantaire comes around his desk to perch on top of it.

“R. Need something?”

Grantaire fidgets with the sleeve of his sweater, a different sweater that’s embroidered with the symbols for sodium and chlorine while proclaiming him to be salty, and mumbles, “I need a hug.”

Enjolras raises an eyebrow in confusion and replies, “I literally gave you one like half an hour ago? Unless you’re just trying to be copper and tellurium.”

“What?”

“CuTe. Which you are, by the way, and yes, I’ll give you a hug,” Enjolras sighs because his boyfriend is, indeed, looking very adorable, especially when he giggles at his lame pun. Enjolras opens his arms, and Grantaire eagerly lets himself be enveloped in the hug he was promised.

“I really should’ve seen this coming. You’re so good with words, but when it comes to coming up with puns, you should just leave them to me. Copper and tellurium are both metals, dummy. They can’t bond like we do.”

Enjolras sighs again, this time in exasperation, but wraps his arms tightly around Grantaire’s waist and buries his nose in his hair. It smells like flowers. He says, “I don’t know how I ended up with such a little shit, but I can’t believe how deeply in love with you I am.”

Grantaire smiles and mashes his face into Enjolras’s shoulder, feeling happier than he’s ever been as he snarks back, “Well, I’m _your_ little shit, and I lithium, oxygen, vanadium, europium you too, you cheesy bastard.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find my Tumblr [here](http://cx-shhhh.tumblr.com/)! I post a lot of memes and stuff, so maybe something will catch your interest. Feel free to send me an ask or rant about how adorable Grantaire is.
> 
> [This "sweater"](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01M3RNCFT/ref=cm_sw_r_pi_dp_x_InCZybDHB6T2N) is essentially the one that Enjolras gave Grantaire. Grantaire is more or less based off of my sophomore year chemistry teacher who would unfailingly wear a chemistry pun T-shirt _every day_.
> 
> In addition, join the [hoes for enjolras](https://discord.com/invite/vERrqvA) server because they're all lovely people.


End file.
